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OFFICERS AND MEMBERS 








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WITH THE 




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ORATIOJf AND POEM 




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DELIVERED AT THE 








CELEBRATION OF FOREFATHERS' DAY, 

DECEMBER 22d, 1858. 




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KEOKUK: 

DAILY GATE CITY OFFICE PRINT. 

1858. 








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THE 



OFFICERS AND MEMBERS 



pipcutlj ^arirfg 0f ^eokuk, 



WITH THE 



ORATION AND POEM 



DELIVERED AT THE 



CELEBKATION OF FOREFATHERS' DAY, 



DECEMBER 22i), 1858. 



KEOKUK: 

DAILY GATE CITY OFFICE PRINT. 

1868. 



H- 



jii^y 



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OFFICERS. 



EDWARD KILBOURNE, 

PRESIDENT. 

RUFUS HUBBARD, 

R. F. BARTLETT, 

O. C. HALE, J- Vice Presidents. 

A. BRIDGMAN, 

A. B. CHITTENDEN, J 

F. W. SWIFT, Secretary. 

R. F. PATTERSON, Treasurer. 

STEPHEN WEBB, Jr., Auditor. 



MEMBERS. 



BARTLETT, R. F. 


N. H. 


BARKER, J. n. 


Mass. 


bridges, S. G. 


" 


BRIDGES, BRAINERD, 


" 


BRIDGMAN, A. 


" 


BILLINGS, D. C. 


Conn. 


BILLINGS, J. B. 


" 


BILLINGS, J. JI. 


" 


bissell, L. R. 


" 


BROWN, JAMES, 


Mass. 


BRIGGS, J. R., JR. 


" 


BRIGGS, E. L. 


Vt. 


BISBEE, JOHN M. 


Mass. 


CONNABLE, ALBERT L. " | 


CHITTENDEN, A. B. 


Conn. 


CRAM, DANIEL, 


N. H. 


COMSTOCK, G. 


JtASS. 


CURTIS, nOSMER, 


Conn. 


CLINTON, J. B. 


" 


DAVIS, B. W. 


N. H. 


DENNY, E. W. 


Mass. 


DENNY, R. B. 


" 


EATON, S. DWIGHT, 


" 


E.MEH.SON, C. H. 


" 


EVAN.S, LEWIS G. 


" 


FOOTE, R. B. 


Conn. 


GILLMORE, H. R. 


VT. 


GIFFORD, G. T. 


Mass. 


GRAY, D. B. 


" 


HALE, 0. C. 


Vt. 


HUBBARD, RUFUS, 


Maine. 



HUMPHREY, D. F. N. H. 

HUTCHINSON, A. C. CoNN. 

HALEY, E. D. Maine. 

HOWE, LOWELL, Vt. 

HAYNES, SIMEON, Maine. 

INGERSOLL, L. C. Mass. 

kilbourne, d. w. conn, 
cilbourne, edward, " 
kimball, j. p. 
marcy, p. p. 
mears, g. wash'n, 

MOODY, B. P. 
MERRIAM, B. S. 
PATTERSON, R. P. 
POND, S. P. 
PERRY, C. H. 
RICKER, S. A. 
RICE, W. A. 
SMITH, E. F. 
SEARLS, IRA, 
SLADE, DANIEL, 
SNOW, WILLARD, 
SWIFT, P. W. 
SHORES, JOHN, 
TAYLOR, G. W. 
THORNDIKE, W. P. 
THURSTON, G. H. 
WEBB, STEPHEN, JR. 
WHITNEY, L. 
WILLIAMS, C. 



Vt. 

Mass. 
Maine. 

Mass. 
Maine. 

Mass. 

Vt. 

Maine. 

Mass. 

N. H. 

Mass. 
Conn. 
Mass. 



Vt. 
N. Y. 



ORATION. 



BY J. R. BRIGGS, JR. 



There seems to spring instinctively within the hu- 
man breast, a love for the land whereon our eyes first 
opened to the light. Patriotism is a natural and im- 
portant sentiment. Upon it depends the defence of 
the State, the welfare of society, and the safety and 
happiness of the individual. The foundation of patri- 
otism is local attachment, — a fondness for one's kind- 
red and neighborhood. My friends, we should be less 
than patriots, less than men, did we forget that spot 
of earth from whence our wandering feet departed. 
This is why, though we are true and loyal to the Great 
Republic, our hearts yet turn to our New England 
homes, faithfully as the trembling needle to the pole. 
This is why, as grateful children, we are met in mem- 
ory of the men who gave us a home and a country, 
upon the day when first they stood upon the soil of 
the strange, new world. 

We of New England, without disparagement of 
others, may indulge a just and honest pride in the stock 
from whence we have sprung. Our fathers possessed 
a force of character, with distinguishing and enviable 
traits, which has moulded and fixed forever the spirit 
and tendencies of the community which they planted. 
In what the peculiarities of that character consisted, 
and how it chanced to seek the new world as the the- 
atre of its display, are topics to which we will briefly 
turn. 

Our fathers were Puritans. The Pilgrims to the 
new world were the Puritans of the old. And who 



and what were the Puritans 1 Not, I think, a class of 
men of whom Republicans and free inquirers need be 
ashamed. Early in the liistory of England there were 
found in the church sincere and pious men who pro- 
tested against its superstitions, and to what seemed 
to them its tyrannical conduct and its worldly greed. 
They wished to render it stainless, and wholly spirit- 
ual ; to weed out error, to correct abuses, and to 
guard against the encroachments of spiritual tyranny 
and worldly ambition. Their primary motive was un- 
exceptionable and commendable. They were no en- 
emies to the church. They were its truest and sin- 
cerest friends. They had no desire to impair its influ- 
ence or to limit its just authority. They sought, by 
establishing and maintaining the spirit of reform, to 
perfect the one and extend the other. But in the ex- 
ercise of this pious and commendable spirit, they were 
unconsciously commencing in the bosom of the church 
a struggle wliich was to be prolonged for centuries, 
and finally to terminate in the grandest results, not 
only to the Church and State of England, but to the 
world. They cannot be greatly praised or greatly 
blamed. Their motives and their aims were good. 
But they had no consistently-digested scheme, and 
were not consciously rendering themselves parties to 
a long-continued contest. They simply acted as good 
and zealous men with clear understandings will always 
and every where act, — spontaneously, from a sense of 
right and justice. They were not designedly initiat- 
ing a contest for the vindication of truth and purity. 
It was simply an expression of sentiment and an ex- 
ercise of influence uttered and exerted in the pres- 
ence of what was, or seemed to be, error and abuse 
in the body of which they were members, entertain- 
ing a common interest. In the presence of error and 
wrong, men will always divide, and incline to this 
side or to that, as conscience or interest or under- 



standing prompts. They took position, as others take 
it. That is the extent of their merit, or their offence, 
from whichever point of view their conduct is exam- 
ined. It was their merit, as I beheve. But, con- 
sciously or unconsciously, designedly or undesignedly, 
a struggle was actually commenced in the church 
which was to grow in depth and intensity with the 
lapse of time, developing and defining principles and 
dividing its members, until it was found both undesir- 
able and impossible for the two opposing parties to 
which the contest was substantially narrowed, to re- 
main within the pale of the same communion. In 
fact, principles and sentiments became so sharply 
defined, were found to be so pointedly opposed, and 
were so zealously defended, that one party would 
not remain, while the other excommunicated them in 
scorn. The progress of the movement, with the grad- 
ual development of principles and the clear division of 
parties, from its first inception to its ultimate issue, 
is at once interesting and important. But it is the 
province of the historian, and not of the casual review- 
er. The party of reform, who sought to correct abuses 
and resist usurpation, from the nature of their consci- 
encious objections were called Puritans. During the 
controversy, they were led on from point to point in 
examination and discussion, until the grounds and na- 
ture of authority and prescription in Church and State, 
the elements and character of Christian truth and dis- 
cipline and of theological dogmas were passed in re- 
view and sifted to the botttm. The final and fixed 
opinions of the Puritans, and the spirit which prevailed 
among them, I will endeavor to define. They toler- 
ated no ceremony unless it was specially enjoined by 
the word of God. They were zealous advocates for 
the independence of the churches. They admitted 
no authority but the Bible. The Bible alone was 
their fixed and infalhble rule. They read it for them- 



8 

salves, and would allow neitheF Parliament, hierarchy 
nor King to interpret it for them. They maintained 
the equality of the clergy. They scouted the doctrine 
of the divine riglit and superior authority of the bish- 
ops. Formal garments and signs they rejected, be- 
cause they were badges of a party they opposed, signs 
that autliority was to prevail over reason and to con- 
trol inquiry. This was the true spirit of the great 
continental Protestant movement. And the Puritans 
were the true and effective champions of the Protest- 
ant cause in England. Nay, their own movement, in- 
dependently begun and contemporaneously fought out, 
would have been conducted to the same result, sooner 
or later, had Luther never lived, or Germany never 
revolted from the Catholic Church. It is not too 
much to say that it is due to the Puritans that the 
English people became Protestant. But the same 
spirit which formed their religious convictions, deter- 
mined the tendencies and fixed the character of their 
political sentiments. They led the party of the peo- 
ple. They become the opponents of kingly as they 
were of ghostly tyranny. The established church sus- 
tained the prerogatives of the King, and the kingly 
order. They mairttained the doctrines of divine right 
and ])assive obedience. The Church and the King 
were at one. On the other hand, the Puritans became 
the guardians of popular liberty. They left their im- 
press not less marked and permanent upon the British 
laws and constitution, than upon the religious feeling 
and policy of the times. If they rendered it impossible 
for the English Church to fall back into Papal subor- 
dination, and to continue in the belief and practice of 
many prominent requirements of the Church of Rome, 
so they exploded forever in the British mind the doc- 
trine that the King could do no wrong, and they made 
it a part of the national undestanding, that Parlia- 
ment, the People, or the Commonwealth could rule as 



9 

truly by the grace of God as a crowned and titled mon- 
arch. Since their day it is conceded that upon great 
occasions Parliament can lawfully change the succes- 
sion, or declare the throne to be vacant, while passive 
obedience has become a term that requires the consul- 
tation of history to understand. How much that is 
good and true in the religious Hfe of the people of Eng- 
land, how much that is just and enduring in the public 
law and political sense of England, which sprung from 
the reflection, the resolution, and the power of the 
Puritans, the historian delights to display, for it is a 
theme over which his heart can expand and his pen 
grow eloquent. They had their extravagancies of 
conduct and sentiment, and their ludicrous side, it is 
true. And so had their opponents. The hterature of 
the times has embalmed it all. But who now turns 
with least delight to the record of the former, or finds 
less to forgive in the latter ? 

But there came a time in the development of sen- 
timent, in the formation of opinions, and in the decis- 
ion of conduct, when the protesting Puritans, equally 
obnoxious to the priestly and the kingty power, were 
no longer safe and free under English rule. Their 
thoughts were denied expression. They were forbid- 
den to worship God, except after an established form. 
Their congregations were broken up. Their ministers 
were executed, imprisoned, or exiled. A month's ab- 
sence from the service of the establishment, subjected 
them to interrogation, to suspicion as non-conformists, 
and to the menace of exile or death. They could do 
nothing that they would. They were compelled to do 
that they would not. A colony went to Holland, from 
thence to Switzerland, and finally returned. In the 
year 1602, near the close of the reign of Elizabeth, a 
congregation in the north of England, under charge 
of John Robinson, despairing of such reforms in the 
national church as their consciences required, formed 



10 

themselves into an independent body. The record of 
their decision is simple and sincere. Hear it : They 
resolved, " whatever it might cost them, as the Lord's 
free people, to join themselves by covenant into a 
church state." They were Calvinists in faith, but 
they refused to wear any human name. They reserved 
the perpetual liberty of modifying their faith and prac- 
tice according to the light they acquired. And they 
took the Bible as their sole authority. Men of New 
England ! mark the words, give heed to the spirit, and 
watch the wanderings of this little flock, for it is the 
seed from which you have sprung. They were per- 
secuted, like their brethren. They were " harassed 
by imprisonments, search-warrants, and trivial prose- 
cutions." At length, weary of persecution, longing 
for rest, they resolved to seek the free worship of God 
in a foreign land. They turned their eyes to Holland, 
where others of the brethren had previously found 
peace. William Brewster, a ruling elder in the 
church, had resided as a diplomatist there, and many 
common sympathies with that people led them to se- 
lect the Low Countries as their future home. In 1607 
they made an attempt to emigrate thither. But they 
were not permitted to leave. The officers of the law 
arrested and detained them. Another attempt was 
made in 1608, which was successful. By previous 
and secret arrangement, they met at night on a lonely 
mocr, and under cover of darkness, in the midst of a 
raging storm, they escaped from an oppression that 
denied them the poor privilege of voluntary exile. 
They landed at Amsterdam. From thence they re- 
moved to Leyden. There they remained eleven years . 
They were years of harmony and happiness. They 
enjoyed their religion undisturbed. They commanded 
the esteem of the community in which they were lo- 
cated. Even the nuncio of Rome spoke of them with 
respect. The fame of their Pastor and the hberty of 



11 

his people attracted new members to the church from 
England. But notwithstanding all this, they were 
unsatisfied. The language and manners of the Dutch 
were unpleasant. They disliked the climate. The 
dissolute habits of the disbanded soldiers employed in 
the late wars, was corrupting to their young. Nor 
were they content to occupy so subordinate a position. 
They were conscious of qualifications for a higher 
rank and a wider influence than was open to them in 
a foreign land. And besides, they were Englishmen, 
and wished to live where English laws, language and 
customs prevailed. They thought of the new world, 
and resolved to plant a colony in America. After 
much difficulty in the arrangement of preliminaries, 
they finally procured two vessels, the Speedwell and 
the 3Iayflower, in which, on the 22d of July, 1620, the 
greater portion of their number embarked at Delft- 
Haven. They arrived at Southampton, where they 
remained several days, leaving on the 5th of August. 
The Speedwell suffered damage, and they put into the 
port of Dartmouth for repairs. Remaining in port 
eight days, they sailed again. When fairly out of 
sight ol land, afloat upon the high seas, in a new and 
almost untraveled path, the Captain and company of 
the Speedwell, dismayed at the enterprise, feigned 
further damage, and they returned again to Dartmouth. 
Then the little band was winnowed of all waverers. 
The timid were left in the harbor with the Speedwell. 
The resolute and strong-hearted all went aboard of 
the Mayflower, and on the 6th of September one hun- 
dred and one human souls bade adieu to their native 
land forever. They had a long and tedious voyage. 
For sixty-three days their little vessel was tossed up 
on the billows of the Atlantic. Their design was to 
land in Virginia, but they lost their position, and on 
the 9th of November they entered the harbor of Cape 
Cod. Spending some time in the exploration of the 



12 

coast, they finally, on Monday, the 22nd day of De- 
cember, two liiuidred and thirty-eight years ago this 
day, entered the bay of Plymouth. The season was 
dreary, desolate and forbidding. Without it was 
stormy, and gloomy, and cold. But it was warm, and 
tranquil, and cheerful within. Leading their wives 
and carrying their little ores, they waded through 
the chill December waters, to a rocky shore, sheeted 
with ice and snow, where, dripping with wet, tinkhng 
with new-made icicles, uncovering their heads to the 
winter wind, on bended knees they thanked Almiglity 
God for his exceeding love. Such was the unpromis- 
ing advent of the Pilgrims to the land upon which their 
sufferings, their virtues and their achievements have 
shed an enduring renown. They have been called 
zealots and enthusiasts. But it should be borne in 
mind that they were not an ignorant and intellectually 
undisciplined company ; they were not inexperienced 
young men and maidens in the glow of life ; they 
were men of learning, of experience in the world's 
rough ways, of grave and considerate deportment, who 
had brought their wives and their families, well appre- 
ciating the toils and the trials that laid before them. 
Removed from the possibility of human succor, should 
perils overtake them, short of provisions, with no 
shelter to cover their heads, thoy looked out upon a 
wintry desert with unquailing hearts and unmurmur- 
ing lips. Surely the enthusiasm that sustained such 
men, under such circumsiances, was an enthusiasm 
that the good and the brave might envy and admire. 

Before leaving the vessel, a complete political or- 
ganization was effected, satisfactory to all. A con- 
stitution, or bill of rights and declaration of purposes, 
was agreed upon, committed to writing and subscribed 
by all. That declaration, in its comprehensiveness 
and spirit, is a model for any age, and a marvel for 
that. In the true and just sense ol a constitution, re- 



13 



ceiving the sanction of all and recognizing the rights 
of all, this was the first. It rested uDon the broad basis 
of "equal laws" for the " general good." In the cabin 
of the Mayflower popular constitutional liberty was 
born. John Carver was unanimously chosen Gover- 
nor for the year. Their old Pastor, the pious and 
faithful Robinson, did not sail with his flock. He was 
intending soon to follow ; but ere preparation was 
complete, he departed upon another voyage for a 
brighter shore. The church was placed under the 
care of Bradford and Brewster. So that, so far as 
organization and concert of action was concerned, in 
ail that related to their civil and religious life, every 
thing was complete, perfect and satisfactory, when the 
Pilgrims encamped upon the snows of New England. 
The winter which followed was long and severe. The 
building of houses at that inclement season was dif- 
ficult. The constant exposure created colds and con- 
sumptions, and but half tlic little colony survived un- 
til spring. Their provisions soon dwindled away, and 
it seemed for a period as though death by starvation 
was inevitable. At one time they were reduced to a 
pint of parched corn, which gave to each individual 
five kernels. Still their cheerful trust in the mercies 
of Providence remained unshaken. But the winter 
passed. The summer came. The earth yielded its 
fruits. Necessities were provided for, and happier 
prospects and brighter days broke upon that little 
band. They labored long, and diligently, and they 
found what they thought was success. They were at 
peace. They worshiped God in their own way. But 
at the end of ten years the colony had not increased 
to above three hundred souls. However, it was a vig- 
orous germ of the new civilization. Others of like 
sympathies were attracted hither, in a few years, and 
the career of the Puritans in the new world opened 
upon a broader scale. 



14 



There are two topics to which I here desire to di- 
rect attention, for they furnish the key to the general 
spirit which has prevailed in New England from the 
landingof the forefathers to the present day, and u hich 
will continue to prevail so long as the seemingly ine- 
radicable influence of the fathers exists. I mean the 
particular and authentic basis of the poHtical and re- 
ligious organizations established by the Plymouth col- 
onists. 

The nature of their primary constitution, I have al- 
ready alluded to. It recognized no distinctions in 
community. All were equal before the laws, in res- 
pect of rank, of rights, and of power. A Governor 
was elected annually, by universal suffrage. He was 
powerless, except he acted by consent of a council, 
first of five, afterwards of seven, who were selected as 
his advisers and assistants. In the council he had two 
votes. For more than eighteen years "the whole body 
of the male inhabitants" constituted the legislature ; 
and when at last extent of territory rendered this prac- 
tice inconvenient, the representation of the people was 
large. Supreme power was lodged in the hands of the 
people. Not only were the judges elected directly by 
them, but when they chose, as they generally did, upon 
important occasions, both executive and judicial ques- 
tions were decided by popular vote. Such were the 
character and guaranties of popular civil liberty in the 
Old Colony. 

The character of their theology was equally free, 
within the recognized limits of authority. The foun- 
dation of the Government, was human rights. The 
foundation and sole authority of the Church, was the 
Biblo. The charge of Robinson, as he bade adieu to 
his flock at Delft-Haven, on the point of sailing, ex- 
plains their position specifically and clearly. Let me 
read an extract from it : "I charge you, before God 
and his blessed angels, that you follow me no further 



15 

than you have seen me follow the Lord Jesus Christ. 
The Lord has more truth yet to break forth out of his 
holy word. I cannot sufficiently bewail the condition 
of the reformed churches, who are come to a point in 
religion, and will go at present no further than the 
instruments of their reformation. Luther and Calvin 
were great and shining lights in their times, yet they 
penetrated not into the whole counsel of God. I do 
beseech you, remember it, — 'tis an article of your cov- 
enant, — that you be ready to receive whatever truth 
shall be made known to you from the written word of 
God." 

It was in such a spirit and upon such a platform 
that the Old Colony commenced the settlement and 
civilization of New England. The colony at Plym- 
outh, however, did not long comprise, either wholly 
or mainly, the Puritan population of New England. 
The sentiments and influences which make up the sura 
of New England character did not all sprincr from 
them. But the colonies which succeeded, were 
prompted to emigrate by the same spirit which they 
had been, partially quickened thereto by the accounts 
which they had transmitted to their friends in England, 
of their peace, their quiet progress, and the hopes be- 
fore them. The regulations among their neighbors 
were not in detail identical with their own. Yet they 
were nearly so. And whether in the religious faith 
and spirit or in the political notions and practices of 
New England at the present time, we should endeavor - 
to recognize the precepts and regulations of one col- 
ony or another, we should be equally successful. 
What New England became, in civil and religious 
life, was not so much the consequence of a compro- 
mise among separate colonies, as of a similar spirit per- 
vading the whole. Therefore, though it is in partic- 
ular honor of the settlers at Plymouth that Forefath- 
ers' Day is kept on the 22nd of December, — the anni- 



16 



versary of their landing, — in the few remaining remarks 
which I have to make.. I shall comprise among the 
fathers all the early settlers who gave life and form 
to New England character. 

The general spirit of their civil and religious life I 
have stated in stating that of the Plymouth colonists. 
They were jealous of the centralization of political 
power, and of the effect of delegating it for long pe- 
riods. Therefore they shared the executive power 
between a nominal executive and a council elected 
both for the purpose of restraint and advice. This 
will explain tlie office, anomalous to many, which still 
exists in most or all of the New England States, none 
of those earliest formed feeling at all inclined to part 
with it. Therefore, too, the annual election of all the 
officers, — a practice which is still continued with res- 
pect to all those in whom the least political power is 
lodged. And therefore the resumption and exercise 
of supreme power by the people on all occasions 
where the importance of the principle or the extent of 
the popular interest rendered it desirable. The polit- 
ical institutions are still as simple as they can possi- 
bly be rendered. The legislative representation is 
still larger than in any community in the world. And 
so much of the original spirit has been preserved, — so 
deeply was it planted, — that there is no inclination to 
extend the term or enlarge the extent of delegated 
power, or to limit the ratio of representation faster than 
the increase of population absolutely demands. The 
governments originally were, and still are, as near to 
being absolute democracies as circumstances render it 
possible. And I may also add, they still are, as they 
originally were, the most just, satisfactory and stable 
governments that ever were instituted among men. 
All this is the work of our fathers' hands. They 
bequeathed us the institutions. They transmitted the 
precepts upon which they are founded, — the spirit 



17 

which breathes through them. Theirs is the merit. 
Is it not rare and great ? Were they not true and 
sagacious men 1 That school of English turmoil and 
revolution, terrible to human fortitude and human sen- 
sibilities, had not tried and tempered and taught them 
for nothing. In them it bore peaceful and precious 
fruits. Is it not with ample cause, considered from 
the political point of view alone, that we revere their 
memory and perpetuate their fame ] But they were 
as jealous of the centralization ot religious power, as 
they were of civil. The church was no less a democ- 
racy than the state. Sole and supreme power resided 
in tlie whole congregation of believers. Nothing was 
done without their authority, and all business was 
transacted in open meeting, by free discussion and 
equal suffrage. Each church was an independent 
body. They were watchful of the usurpations of the 
priesthood. The clergy were not permitted to exer- 
cise the least authority not specially reposed in them. 
No clerical association was tolerated. Every thing 
that looked to associated or concerted effort on the 
part of the clergy was rigorously prohibited. Even 
associate meetings for mutual counsel and improve- 
ment were looked upon with so much suspicion that 
the few attempts to establish them were speedily 
abandoned. Their policy was effectual. The people 
remained masters of the church as well as of the 
state. That may be right, or it may be wrong. I 
was taught to believe it right, and the reflect! jns of 
my manhood have strengthened the teachings of my 
childhood. But that is a paint I am not here to argue. 
I simply state the fact. There either were no Christ- 
ian churches in New England, or the people were the 
rulers thereof. 

And in this connection, it is proper to speak of 
the religious intolerance imputed to them. The charge 
is true. They were intolerant. I do not deny it. 



18 

It would be folly to deny the record of their official 
acts. They passed laws expelling those who disa- 
greed from them in religious opinion, and punishing 
them if they refused to leave. I know the defence 
is set up for them that they came here to enjoy their 
peculiar religion. That they desired no member to 
join their community who did not agree with them in 
matters of religious faith. That they wished merely 
to be let alone. And it is true. They were simply 
intolerant,— they did not persecute. They sought not 
to compel people of another faith to receive their own. 
They never punished for opinion, as such. They only 
sought to exclude from their asylum such as disagreed 
with them. But the argument only amounts to an 
excuse. It is not a defence. At home they preached 
toleration. It underlaid the whole argument which 
they spread before the world. They were bound to 
practice their own precepts, or recant. They had no 
right, in nature and in reason, to establish a free civil 
community from which people were to be excluded on 
account of religious sentiment. We do not enter the 
civil state aione from choice. We are born into it. 
But whether we enter it voluntarily or involuntarily, 
our rights as citizens are independent of our peculiar 
religious tenets. So our fathers taught. And they 
practised otherwise. But besides the excuse I have 
adverted to, there are two others which may be given 
in their behalf. First : They lived in an intolerant 
age. That I am aware of, full tolerance, at that time, 
was granted no where. Quakerism was not yet devel- 
oped, and Pennsylvania was not yet founded. It is 
true that perfect religious toleration is claimed to have 
been established in Maryland. But in that colony 
people holding the sentiments of those who are wont 
to worship in this house, were by law liable to exe- 
cution. For the sentiments which I entertain, my 
own head mijrht have been rolled from the block. 



19 

They were in error. But they only shared the com- 
mon error of the times, — an error from which the hu- 
man mind had not then fully escaped. Nay, from 
which it has not yet escaped, except in some small 
degree. Second : They were practically tolerant of 
all opinions except towards those who made them- 
selves unreasonably offensive. A man might enter- 
tain any opinion he chose, might worship God in any 
way agreeable; if only he conducted himself decently 
and orderly, he was undisturbed. The case of Roger 
Williams, a Puritan of the Puritans, is not an excep- 
tion to this statement. I esteem his position right. 
I honor him for his adherence to it. But it was not 
for the indulgence of consciencious opinions that he 
was expelled. If he did not form an exception to the 
rule, much less did those people called Quakers, who 
suffered at the hands of our fathers. In point of fact, 
they were not Quakers. The doctrines cf Fox, Bar- 
clay and Penn were only just making their way over 
here. These people accepted them, with little knowl- 
edge of their character, and less appreciation of their 
real spirit. Their conduct was scandalous, inexcusa- 
ble and provoking. They cried to the magistrates and 
ministers in the streets, from windows and doors. 
They derided the institutions of the country. They 
denounced New England worship as an abomination. 
They interrupted public worship. They ran naked 
through the streets. For this they wt^re warned to 
leave. If they had left, they would have gone unpun- 
ished. Even after tlie sentence they had their choice 
to leave or suffer. Only such as these suffered. Nay, 
not all of these, but only four ; for the infliction of 
capital punishment upon these four, much as they 
had done to provoke it, and little as was the sympa- 
thy to which they were entitled, roused the feelings of 
the people, brought them to a realizing sence of their 
attitude, and made an end of all penalties for relig- 



20 



ious opinion. This was the answer our fathers made 
to the charge of intolerance. Carried to its end, 
they saw the inevitable consequences of intolerance. 
They shrank from them. They admitted the error 
and repealed the laws. In fact, it was only in part of 
the colonies that intohrance existed at all. Connec- 
ticut, in particular, an offshoot from Plymouth, and 
Rhode Island of course, were always free from it. 
This is the extent of our fathers' offence. Not great, 
indeed. But does not the blemish seem greater from 
its appearing upon so spotless a character] 

They were men of sterling virtues. Religion was 
the chief topic of their consideration. And it was a 
matter of personal concern. The requirements of 
the Bible were the law of their life. They sought 
to regulate every act, every thought, every emotion 
thereby. What saith the scripture 1 was a question 
forever on their lips or in their hearts. Since the 
days of the Apostles, no men have lived who consulted 
the commands of the Lord Jesus more faithfully and 
perpetually than they. And the profundity of the re- 
ligious sentiment left its impress upon their private 
character and the social state to a wonderful extent. 
It is written, " one might live there from year to 
year and not see a drunkard, or hear an oath, or meet 
a begfifar." 

They are too often thought of as a stern and hard- 
browed race. But it is an error. It is true, they were 
rigorous and exacting, of themselves and others, in the 
performance of every moral duty. They set their 
faces resolutely to the conquest of the world, the flesh, 
and the devil. Their spirits were high and strong. 
Their aims uncompromising as they were elevated. 
But they were a benevolent and affectionate people. 
Their hearts were alive to all the nobler impulses and 
finer feelings of mankind. Family attachments were 
strong. The punishment of the vicious was mild and 



21 

reformatory. The slave-trade was forbidden on pain 
ofdeatli. Even cruelty to animals was a criminal 
offence. When they could not assist their suffering 
brethren, at home or abroad, by a contribution of 
means, they held fasts and offered prayers in their 
behalf. Their sympathy with the weak, the suffering 
and the erring was keen and lively. But it was not 
a morbid sympathy, — the sympathy of weaklings and 
sentimentalists. It was an intelhgent and manly 
sympathy, — as robust as it was hearty and human. 
In all the softer graces and amenities of life, they 
were no more deficient than in the homely and rigo- 
rous virtues. 

They were the friends of universal education. To 
their minds, education was the handmaid of religion, 
and the surest support of the state. They did not ex- 
pect to maintain the religion that they loved and the 
state they established, without enhghtening the un- 
derstandings of those to whom they were to be en- 
trusted. With supreme power, both in secular and 
sacred affairs, residing in the hands of the people, 
they appreciated the great importance of popular edu- 
cation. As intellectual beings, also, they set a true 
value upon the acquisition of knowledge and the devel- 
opment and discipline of the mind. Among their 
earliest enactments it was provided that " none of the 
brethren should sufier so much barbarism in their 
families as not to teach their children and apprentices 
60 much learning as may enable them perfectly to read 
the English tongue." And it was ordered in all the 
Puritan colonies " that every township, after the Lord 
hath increased them to the number of fifty household- 
ers, shall appoint one to teach all children to read and 
write ; and where any town shall increase to the num- 
ber of one hundred families, they shall set up a gram- 
mar school ; themasters thereof being able to instruct 
youth so far as they may be fitted for the university.'' 



22 

This was the foundation of the free school system, 
which has spread over the land ; which has attracted 
the attention of the civilized world, and extended itself 
to other lands. Puritanism raised the ofRce of the 
People, and their notions of the necessity of popular 
education were correspondingly elevated. 

In a few words we may sum up their character, as 
friends of free government, free schools, a free church ; 
lovers of virtue and good order, of industry and frugal- 
ity ; believers in the inviolability of reason and con- 
science ; equable, serene and resolute men, who dealt 
justly, loved mercy, and walked humbly with their 
God. They rest from their labors. The soil of New 
England covers them. But their example and their 
spirit survive. The 21,200 persons comprised in the 
Puritan emigration now number as their descendants 
one-fourth of the white population of this country. In 
six millions of American people they live again. It 
might be at once our merit and our pride to imitate 
their virtues and share their Jame. 



POEM 



BY ALBERT SUTLIFFE. 

The Streams which flowed from Pilgrim founts, 
Do they still make our borders green 1 

The old war-beacons on her mounts, 
And can they yet be seen ] 

The nerve that steeled those Mayflower men, 

The courage of old Bunker Hill, 
Say, are they with us now as then, 

Still moving, living still J 

Still handed down from sire to son, 

To hearth-fires blazing far away. 
How does their influence mould and form 

The Yankee of to-day ? 

The Yankee ! what strange visions rise ! 

What mighty thoughts my soul engage ! 
Before me stalks, in comic guise. 

The Yankee of the stage. 

With figure lean, and nasal speech, 

And breeches brief as brief can be : 
So brief their striped beauties reach 

Scarce past his pilgrim knee ; 

With face of awlul longitude. 

The features soiled, and pinched, and thin, 
Yet to some strange expression screwed, 

'Twixt idiot smile and grin, 

He asks you, where? and when? and how ? 

And«j/iosc? and which? and why? and what? 



24 



And don't you think you'd better, now ? 
And don't you think you'd better not ? 

He makes his wares and vends them well ; 

Nice hams his native forests grew ; 
Pure spicery, only made to sell, 

And always I'resh and new. 

He buys, he sells, he makes, he mars ; 

Is priest, or layman, as you will ; 
Makes pills, or speeches ; pettifogs ; 

Does nothing well nor ill. 

He travels ; sees St. Jarnes, St. Paul's ; 

" Guesses" what some old master means ; 
In Paris cafes gawks, and calls 

Aloud for pork and beans. 

He clambers up Vesuvius ; 

The lava billows fall and rise ; 
With legs hung o'er the abyss he dreams 

Of home and pumpkin pies. 

He seeks the Nile's far distant springs ; 

He roams the desert simoom-blown ; 
He hails across the Russian steppes 

The Czar upon his throne. 

He roams the eastern hemisphere 
From far Cathay to sunny Spain ; 

He grasps, without a thought of fear, 
The British lion's mane. 

He questions every one he meets, 
French savans none can understand, 

He asks its riddle of the Sphinx 
Among its wastes of sand. 

He beats you down a sou in price ; 

Gives bogus coin in charities ; 
He offers on the Paris Bourse 

Western securities. 



25 

Does all things stupid, all things mean ; 

Says every thing mal-a-propos; 
Is sometimes sharp, is always green, 

Is all the world's bon iiiot. 

The footlights vanish from my sight ; 
The Yankee of the stage is gone ; 
Around me falls the pleasant light 
. Of the fair mid-day sun. 

I see instead before me rise 

New England homes, New England hills ; 
Above, her blue Italian skies. 

Below, her silver rills, 

The snow-white church among the trees, 
The school-house by the village green, 

The clover field hummed o'er by bees, 
The mountains dimly seen. 

1 hear her many sounds of toil ; 

The muffled axe in valleys deep ; 
The distant city's wild turmoil 

That breaks the forest's sleep. 

Her water- courses fierce and strong. 
Her million spindles whizzing free. 

And, mingling ever with their song, 
The grand voice of the sea. 

That sea which bears with wave and wind 
Her handiwork to distant lands ; 

Which links her to the farthest Ind 
As if with iron bands. 

The toilsome sea, which nerves with steel 
The hardy tars that plough its wave ; 

The chainlcss sea, which teaches well 
Its lessons to the brave. 

New England homes, in valleys deep. 
Or on your hill-tops maple-crowned. 



26 

Whether the June skies o'er you sleep, 
Or winter howls around, 

Still are ye happy, still serene ; 

The summer can not give more joy, 
Nor fierce December, blowing keen, 

Your inward peace destroy. 

For, O, those long close-curtained eves, 
In which the soul of comfort dwells, 

I find on memory's well-worn leaves 
No picture loved so well. 

'Tis winter ; such a night as this ; 

The darkness slowly settles down 
On field, and grove, and wilderness, 

And busy-peopled town. 

Now o'er some quiet country home 
The thickening shadows peaceful lie ; 

The roadside poplars, straight and tall. 
Stand up against the sky ; 

The timid fowls are sheltered well. 
The cattle stalled and amply fed : 

Fuel, to last till ten o'clock, 

Brought from the well-filled shed. 

The hearth is swept, the tea is drawn, 

The table set for the repast. 
A Yankee kitchen — it is years. 

Since, friends, you saw one last. 

The pleasant firelight cheers the room ; 

It lights the nicely-sanded floor, 
The ceiling, dark with time and smoke, 

The quaintly-paneled door. 

Those hifrh-backed chairs which ancient dames, 
Berufl^ed and powdered, used to fill ; 

You think that by these flickering flames 
You see them sit there still. 



27 

The bookcase with its volumes worn ; 

The Pilgrim's Progress, Baxter's Rest, 
The Book of Martyrs, somewhat torn, 

A novel — but a guest. 

The old king's-arm that saw the wars 
Distant, shines dimly in the blaze. 

With simples culled for winter use, 
And bunches of the maize. 

The dresser on the mantle-piece 

Throws back the light with conscious pride; 
A tall brass antique candlestick 

Stands upon either side. 

That stately clock, a century gone 

It saw a great grandfather dead. 
It saw the flash of British steel, 

It heard the whiz of lead. 

The meal is o'er, the table cleared. 
They gather closer round the light ; 

The father reads some tale aloud. 
The children's eyes shine bright. 

Or if they con the morrow's task, 
The mother, knitting all the while. 

Upon their rosy faces looks 
With quiet, hopeful smile. 

Perchance a neighbor comes to bring 
Some news he at the village learned. 

John Smith, the spendthrift, left last spring, 
Has just this day returned. 

They fetch from out the winter's hoard 
The walnuts gathered in the fall ; 

The red-cheeked apples, nicely stored, 
A ready feast for all. 

'Tis eight o'clock ; the children gone, 
The parents sit the fire before. 



28 

And think of what the past has done, 
And of the future's store. 

They talk about the neii^hborhood : 
" 'Tis sad that Deacon Brown is dead ; 

No deed of his were well undone, 
Nor word of his unsaid. 

"The peddler marries Sallie Jones, 

That any one could plainly see 
Since he went with her on the night . 

Of Higby's apple-bee. 

" The widow Clark's old cow is dead; 

The ways of God are hard to tell ; 
I think we'll give her brindle, now ; 

'Twill do almost as well." 

The clock strikes ten ; the house is hushed ; 

There's nothing but the stars alight, 
Or the huge log upon the hearth 

That smoulders through the night. 

New England housewives ! I would fain 
Essay your virtues rare to paint ; 

My humble muse before the task 
Sinks woe-bcgone and faint. 

For, startled at my elTort rash, 

From twenty thousand Yankee tombs, 

Full twenty thousand matrons rise. 
All armed with mops and brooms. 

A rocky mount of pantaloons 

Before my wondering fancy springs. 

With splendid patches on the knees. 
And good enough for kings. 

Ten pyramids of pork and beans. 
Fifty square miles of pumpkin pies, 

A mighty lake of apple-sauce 
Before me next arise. 



29 

A vast array of spinning wheels, 
And yarn enough to reach as far 

As ten times to the sun, and twice 
To the remotest star. 

And from these twenty thousand ghosts 
A voice upon the wind doth swell, 

Which slowly grows articulate : 
" We darned and mended well !" 

We gather from our homes to light 
Our memories' torches at the blaze 

Which cheered, that cold December night, 
The pilgrims with its rays. 

We see again the ancient rock 

First pressed by footstep of the free ; 

Dear rock ! stand firm against the shock 
Of that wild winter sea. 

We hear the solemn, deep-voiced prayer; 

The grand, and slowly-swelling hymn, 
Rousing the wild beast from his lair 

Far in the forest dim. 

The silent night is all around ; 

The closely-curtained sky o'erhead ; 
For couch, the hard, snow-covered ground, 

Which nature's hand hath spread. 

And if some heart in anguish turned 
Backward across the wintry foam. 

And through that solemn darkness yearned 
For some dear English home ; 

Or if some strong man bowed and wept, 
With earnest thoughts, too sad to speak. 

Silently wept, while others slept, 
O, do not think it weak. 

Great hearts ! they hewed the forest well. 
And laid the earth bare to the sun ; 



30 

Reared sons and daughters for the task, 
And slept when they were done. 

Brought a new era, whose great truth 

Was thought, free thought to all mankind ; 

The old world found anew its youth, 
Before so weak and blind. 

Great hearts ! true heroes ! sinless 1 no ! 

The world hath known no perfect man, 
Yet greater than the age before, 

Truer to God's great plan. 

How seem we by those ancient men 1 
How great, how small, how good, how mean 1 

And are we worthy of such sires, 
True as the world hath seen ] 

New England sons, O, keep the thrift 
Of those who founded mighty states ! 

They held their threads of destiny ; 
You hold your future fates. 

O, found your cities on a rock ! 

And build your fortunes slow and sure ! 
Tliat they may bide the tempest's shock, 

And to the end endure. 

Make homos, to which a century hence 
Your children's children still may turn, 

And see, through all the mists of time, 
Their holy watchfires burn. 

New England daughters, mothers now, 
Your mothers were not dressed so fine ; 

Have you forgot to take that stitch 
Which saves the other nine 1 

Have you still kept that wondrous art 

Of rarest skill and wisdom too. 
That makes the oldest dresses look 

Almost as good as new ? 



31 



New Engiand daughters of the West,' 
'Tis yours, that task of heart and brain, 

Tu make your homes and firesides blest. 
To live those lives again. 

For yonder through the parted clouds, 
Ail brighter than the mid-day sun. 

Those angel-mothers wait to say, 
" My daughter, 'tis well done." 

Brothers and sisters ! common ties 
And common memories bind us fast ; 

Upon the threshold of the year 
We stand and view the past. 

Before us lie our lives of toil, 

Behind us dimly stretch the years : 

O, let us glean and gather well 
Those harvests sown in tears. 

And sow broadcast our own good deeds. 
For distant times in joy to reap ; 

When we have, in our peaceful graves, 
Been centuries asleep. 



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